


i'll wait up for you dear

by harrily



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Louis, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst (just a tiny little bit you have to squint to see it), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Ordinary!Louis, Pining, Pub!AU (is that even a thing??), Top Harry, famous!harry, fanboy!Louis, slight ziall as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrily/pseuds/harrily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So how’s it going with Harry?” Niall asks a couple of days later as the both of them sit in the park, curled up on a bench with their coats on, and warm gingerbread lattes in their hands – after all, it’s nearing Christmas, and who’s one to deny a gingerbread latte?</p><p>Honestly, Louis didn’t even realize when they started referring to Harry as a friend of theirs, and not with the occasional squeal – it still happens, however – and it hasn't stopped Louis from logging onto his Tumblr account, blogging about The Directions and giggling to himself when he sees girls freaking out about Harry’s new jeans that are sinfully tight on his bum and thinking to himself ‘I have his phone number, bitches.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll wait up for you dear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stylinsonboi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinsonboi/gifts).



> for the prompt: 
> 
> 'famous!harry and ordinary!louis meet sometime in november through a friend (or maybe at a coffee shop or coincidentally bump into each other at a park idk) theres lots of pining and trouble with management throughout december and they spend christmas together because louis's family kicked him out when he was 17 after he came out as gay and harry loves louis so of course they spend it together. and then on new years (they're both still oblivious to the fact that they're both in love with each other) they kiss and have new years sex after finding out they love each other and blah blah blah happy ending!! lots of cuddles and almost-kisses and tension and fluff and jealousy please!' 
> 
> hi darling :3 i hope you this little fic!
> 
> (tbh bc i'm /the/ procrastination queen, i wrote this in three days until the due date, so yay me! i'm sorry if it seems a bit rushed, but i'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out!) 
> 
> so i hope you all like it and have some pretty happy holidays :) !!

“I’m going to tell you something,” Niall whispers in his ear, as if they’re in some spy movie and they should not be heard. Truth is, they’re at a normal – and quite popular – pub, and it looks as if Niall is licking his ear, as if they’re doing some sort of foreplay.

 

“If you could just kindly get off me,” Louis whispers back, watching as Niall moves away a little, but not that far away, since Louis can still feel Niall’s breath fanning over his face, smelling like beer and pints.

 

“I’m going to tell you something,” Niall whispers again, “But you have to promise me not to squeal, or shout, or make any noise whatsoever,” after Louis glares at him impatiently, Niall speaks again, “Harry Styles is sitting right behind you.”

 

The noise Louis makes is inhumane; something between a whale dying and a turtle orgasming, “Shut up!” Niall hisses, cramping a hand in front of Louis’ mouth. From staying up all night searching for concert tickets and missing the first hour of work to ITunes libraries filled with their songs, Niall and Louis are two proud, grown-ass boys, fans of one of the most successful bands in music history, _The Directions_.

 

“How – how can I shut up?” Louis shouts in a whisper, “He’s right behind me now, isn’t he – oh God, shit, can I ask him to sign my phone case, shit, that’s too girly – “

 

“Chill,” Niall tells him in a low voice, “Just pretend he’s not here, that it’s

just a normal night with your gold ol’ friend Niall – “

 

And, no. Louis cannot just ignore the fact that his celebrity crush is

            sitting right behind him, casually having a drink with his friends while he is having a mental breakdown.

 

See, Louis is not just a ‘normal’ fan of Harry Styles, or the band either. Well, he might as well be, if you consider giant – ass pictures of him stuck on Louis’ walls, along with numerous posters he found in his sister’s magazine decorating the kitchen cupboards to be normal. Long story short, Louis is an obsessed 20-year-old who spends his time blogging about the almighty Styles instead of studying – which is quite common in our era, but Louis still considers himself a creep.

 

“I need a picture of him,” Louis murmurs to himself, he simply cannot let this chance go. When is he ever going to find another chance to meet Harry Styles in person, all alone? He quite loves his band mates as well, Zayn and Liam, but no one compares to Harry.

 

“Sure,” a familiar, melodic voice sends chill down his spine, and Louis doesn’t even need to turn around to recognize whose voice it is. He does need, however, to have a mini heart attack, before turning around in the speed of light and putting on a huge, toothy grin.

 

“Hello?” he squeaks. _Fucking_ squeaks.

 

“You said you wanted a photo with me, didn’t you love?” Harry fucking Styles smiles at him, extending his arm, “I could also sign your phone case, not quite creepy as some of the other things I’ve heard.”

 

Louis is so shocked that Niall needs to poke his shoulder multiple times for him to stutter out a reply, “Uh – I, I – yes please.”

 

Harry chuckles charmingly, mossy green eyes twinkling as he takes Louis’ phone from his hand and messily writes ‘Harry’ with a pen the bartender passes him, then unlocks it – _shit, he saw him as the lock screen, didn’t he?_ – and opens the Camera App, turning around so that his lips touch Louis’ cheek as he takes the photo, then passes it back to Louis. It all happens so fast that Louis doesn’t even realize what pose he took for the picture, “Hey, can I take your phone for a second? Just want to see the picture.”

 

 _You can take my heart and shatter it to pieces if you want to_ , Louis thinks, but kindly gives Harry his phone, and then turns to Niall, grabbing the blond boy’s hand and biting harshly on it, “Fuck!”

 

“Ouch – what the fuck?” the boy whines, hiding his hand in his pocket.

 

“I can die peacefully now,” Louis whispers to himself, “My purpose has been completed, the world does not need me anymore, and I shall rest in peace.”

 

“See? All good things happen to you, I’ve told you countless of times,” Niall huffs, arms crossing in front of his chest, but Louis cannot care less about the fact that Niall is heartbroken because Zayn isn’t here with Harry – he can feel his heart beating so quickly and loud, he hasn’t felt it beat like this since he last participated in P.E.

 

“Here you go,” Harry’s honey-like voice says, and the singer gives Louis back his phone, “Nice to meet you, Louis.”

 

And Louis is so mother fucking excited he doesn’t even ask Harry how he learnt his name.

 

 

 

 

When Louis gets back home, he has a mini heart attack again, this time, because of a text.

 

 **Harry S.** : _Hi there, casually put my phone in yours, hope you don’t mind Xx._

 

First of all, Harry Styles put his phone number in Louis’ phone, and then proceeded to name himself Harry S., as if they’re in some fucking Gossip Girl episode, and lastly, he put two, two ‘xx’ in his text. Louis needs an aspirin.

 

It takes him approximately ten minutes to reply, which is quite early for Louis’ statistics. The man contemplates whether or not to put a heart emoji or a smiley emoji, because both are too foreword to send to your celebrity crush – as if the erotic fan-fiction one writes on their blog is not – however, in the end, Louis inserts an eggplant emoji.

_oh hello! was a bit surprised at first but pleasantly xx_ ( the xx were added after a long 5 seconds of consideration.)

 

 **Harry S.** : _Yeah, sorry, putting it without your consent was kind of stupid Xx._

 

Is he serious?

 

_oh no it’s alright mate don’t worry bout it xx_

 

 _how come you did tho?_ (“Stupid,” he says to himself after he presses ‘send’.)

 

 **Harry S.** : _Don’t know really. You were an interesting bloke, and I thought I should keep in contact with you Xx._

 

 _not cute?_ :( (“Why am I allowed a phone?”)

 

 **Harry S.** : _That too. A lot Xx._

 

 

Louis goes to bed happy that night.

 

 

 

 

“So how’s it going with Harry?” Niall asks a couple of days later as the both of them sit in the park, curled up on a bench with their coats on, and warm gingerbread lattes in their hands – after all, it’s nearing Christmas, and who’s one to deny a gingerbread latte?

 

Honestly, Louis didn’t even realize when they started referring to Harry as a friend of theirs, and not with the occasional squeal – it still happens, however – and it hasn’t stopped Louis from logging onto his Tumblr account, blogging about _The Directions_ and giggling to himself when he sees girls freaking out about Harry’s new jeans that are _sinfully_ tight on his bum and thinking to himself ‘ _I have his phone number, bitches_.’

 

The two boys have been talking these past few days, nothing too extravagant, just a few funny clips here and there, nothing much. Louis is just too shy to make a move and text Harry first, since Harry is always working – even though the singer doesn’t know it, Louis is watching his every move each day – and it would be quite awkward for Louis to send him a text during a meeting with their Management or during a flight or a concert. So he lets it to Harry to text him first, which doesn’t happen as often as he would want to.

 

“It feels surreal.” he replies to Niall, sipping a bit from his latte, “I just – “

 

“You lucky bastard,” Niall lets out a throaty chuckle, “He’s into you, I swear, you could – “

 

“Don’t say ‘you could see it in his eyes’ Niall, please, don’t be that cliché.”

 

“But you could!” Niall laughs again at Louis’ desperation. “He likes you, Lou, otherwise he wouldn’t have given you his phone number. Do you think this happens with a lot of other fans? Consider yourself lucky.”

 

“I do, I just – it’s so weird, y’know. Oh God, I can’t let him see my blog, _or_ let him know I’m obsessed with him. That would freak him out.”

 

“He did hear you having a breakdown at the pub, though.” Niall says.

 

“Yeah, but that’s another thing, everyone freaks out over meeting a famous person,” Louis says, trying to convince himself instead of Niall, “He can’t know anything – “ his phone buzzes then.

 

 **Harry S.** : _We have an interview this afternoon and then I’m completely free. Would you like to meet up? Xx._

 

It would be kind of weird to just reply, ‘yeah I know, I’ve learnt your promo program for this week by heart’, so Louis just bites his lip harshly to refrain himself from squealing out loud, and just replies with a simple ‘ _sure where? xx_ ’

 

Niall wolf-whistles next to him, “Look who’s ready for a night with Harry Styles!” he giggles. Louis still cannot believe how incredibly lucky he is that a pop star is texting him, as if they’re casual friends and he isn’t one of the most famous people on the planet.

 

“Shut up you tosser,” Louis grumbles, checking if anyone heard them, “They’re leaving in a week for Italy, guess I’m not _that_ lucky anymore.”

 

His best friend glares at him, “So, you’re basically telling me that you’re acting like a grump because they’re leaving in a week, instead of getting excited over meeting him for the first time _in person_? Sort your priorities, mate.”

 

Louis considers Niall’s words for a moment, silently. He’s always kind of an introvert, over-thinking his actions and words from when he was little and his parents couldn’t just know that he liked boys – and the one time he finally decide to act impromptu and live in the moment, he got kicked out of his house, penniless and miserable, with Niall his only support in life. He wouldn’t quite like to choose to act this way again, but this time, he doesn’t have that much to lose, or so he thinks.

 

“O-okay.” he tells himself, and opens his phone to answer Harry’s text, an address of a place he’s never heard before, and he’s lived in London for the last four years. He replies with a smiley face and three ‘xx’, since he has made a promise to himself to add one each week, just to show Harry that he’s interested in him – he’s not sure if this is how people show their emotions (that is, through emojis and ‘xx’), but he’s waiting for the day he sends Harry the red heart emoji to officially tell him he’s in love.

 

Louis is also quite self-conscious with his appearance – and it wouldn’t be so hard to choose his clothing if he wasn’t going on a date with Harry Styles himself, whose wardrobe can pay for Louis’ tuition fees at Harvard University (if Louis ever passed there). “This is nice,” Niall tells him, showing him a plain, black t-shirt with rolled up sleeves.

           

“Niall, it’s fucking winter, and except from you, every other person in this world dresses in winter clothes,” Louis tells him with exaggerated gesticulations, “Fuck this, I’m wearing my sweater.” And so he ends up wearing his favorite dark navy sweater and his black skinny jeans, that he thinks it’s the only thing that hugs around his bum the way he wants it to and doesn’t make him look like a whale.

 

“You look wonderful, he’s going to get hard the moment he looks at you,” Niall tells him, brushing his fringe a little bit and kissing his forehead as Louis exits their shared flat and catches the bus.

 

Louis finally finds the place after a good fifteen minutes of wandering around the specific neighborhood that almost reminds him of a ghost town from how empty it is. There’s barely any people walking on the streets, and half of the shops and restaurants are closed. The coffee shop Harry asked him to come is behind a flower shop, and has a beautiful cozy atmosphere, with warmth surrounding his body the moment he enters and a delicious smell of chocolate hitting his nostrils. Louis feels as if he’s in a teen fiction romance novel.

 

He spots Harry sitting at a table far behind, a mug on the table the familiar black journal in his hands that he’s always seen with. Louis really wants to take a peek in it. “Louis!” Harry exclaims happily, getting up from his seat to hug him – thousands of butterflies swimming in the bottom of Louis’ belly. “I – I wasn’t sure if you’d like it here, but – had to make sure you wouldn’t be swarmed by paps on your way here. They can be quite over-whelming.”

 

A sad smile twitches on Louis’ lips. He can’t imagine what it would be like in Harry’s position, always followed by people who want to expose every single detail of his personal life – and you’d think only boy-bands interested them, “I’m sorry,” Louis apologizes, although he doesn’t really know what for.

 

“Oh no, it’s alright, really,” Harry dismisses him, “So, hungry?

 

 

 

 

 

During the rest of November, Harry and Louis continue going on cute little ‘dates’ – can he even call them that? – every now and then, due to Harry’s heavy schedule with the band. And as Louis continues filling his Tumblr with posts about Harry’s hair and Harry’s outfits and Harry’s personal life, and it has become so awkward to hide the fact that he is fully obsessed.

 

On the positive side, he’s learnt more things about Harry than he would have ever discovered on the Internet; like the fact that Harry always scribbles down little doodles on his journal when he’s explaining something or when he’s silent. Like the fact that Harry enjoys his coffee plain and simple, but always orders sweet to nibble on. Or the fact that Harry always bites on his fingernails whenever he’s nervous or anxious.

 

Louis has also managed to avoid the topic of ‘interests’ whenever he’s talking with Harry, because he hasn’t yet thought of something to say instead of _‘oh don’t worry, I actually like that indie band, The Directions, and have a blog about them like a fucking fourteen-year-old, happy days!’_

 

And so this leads us to day, last day of November, and Louis should probably be out and about, doing some Christmas shopping for their flat, but he’s stuck inside his apartment, putting a carton of soup in the microwave to feed himself, when finally, his phone rings.

 

The picture that he has set for Harry is one that he sent him while texting once – he doesn’t think there are many people in this world who have the privilege of setting one of Harry’s rare, awkward selfies as his picture, “Yes?”

 

“Louis?” God, how he loves hearing Harry saying his name. He has to stab his thigh with a wooden spoon to stop himself from squealing like a dolphin.

 

“Hi Harry,” he smiles, playing with the remaining sweater that pools around his thighs, “What’s up?” Harry doesn’t usually call him. There’s only texts and maybe sometimes a photo sent here and there. He hasn’t even FaceTime’d him, gosh. Louis understands him because of the fact that he is an _international celebrity_ and cannot just simply walk around, talking to some random tosser who just happens to be a fan of his.

 

“Nothing, was I just wondering if you’d like to come over tomorrow night? We’ll be doing a bit of song-writing with the boys for an hour or so, so maybe you can come at 9, or so? If you want, that is.” His hand collides with his sweater as Louis grasps onto his chest to maintain himself, “Louis?” Harry asks again concerned.

 

Louis chokes on his own spit – _Harry Styles_ is inviting him at his own house, with the rest of his band mates, to just _chill around_? What did he ever do to deserve this kind of treatment from life? “Yes, yes, I’ll definitely come! I mean – yeah, of course, that – that would be lovely,” Harry chuckle that comes soon afterwards is just simply too enjoyable.

 

“Great, that-that’s great. You can bring your friend Niall, if you want. The five of us can do something.” Harry suggests, and although Louis wouldn’t mind being with Harry all alone in his house, he does feel up to a gathering.

 

“Okay, I will.”

 

 

 

 

“Now remember Niall, we have to be very professional,” Louis advises Niall as they stand on Harry’s porch. “No talking about bands and music and fan-girling, right, we are not to do that.”

 

“Don’t patronize me.”

 

Just then, a joyous Harry Styles opens the door, checking if any paps are around the corner – they probably are, but Louis would be lying if he said he even gave a shit about them – and welcomes them in.

 

Harry’s house is nothing like Louis ever imagined it would be – he’s used to the idea of celebrities having huge houses – Kardashian-style ones – with two pools and tennis court here and there, but Harry’s exactly the opposite. It’s larder than an average flat, right at the top of a wonderful block of flats with a view of the center of London. He’s met with a living-room full of cushions and a huge sofa, a kitchen at the back with little vases flowers covering the kitchen island, a very neat and stand-alone small sofa right against the way with a small table in front of it – where Harry probably writes his songs – and at the back, he can recognize the entrances of the bedrooms and other rooms of the house.

 

“This is Louis, everyone,” Louis gulps down shyly, putting his hand out for Zayn fucking Malik and Liam fucking Payne to shake, but the both of them bring him into a suffocating, lovely hug. “Guys – “

 

“So you’re the Louis he’s been texting with,” Zayn laughs, and Louis never thought he was such a teasing little thing. He’s always thought of Zayn as the ‘mysterious’ and ‘asocial’ one. Funny how the media sometimes portray you as the opposite of whom you are.

 

“Stop it,” Harry tells them, but he’s laughing as well. After they all greet each other, they result onto the couch, where the five of them fit quite easily – with Niall landing on Zayn’s lap, Louis is pretty sure it wasn’t an accident – and Louis squished between Harry and the end of the couch. They watch some NCIS type of series first, then pop in some random dramatic movie that bores Louis to death, but because Harry chose it, he’s going to watch it till the end of it.

 

“Boring, huh?” Harry’s voice makes Louis jump a little, since the rest of the boys are silent, Niall’s probably asleep as well, and he’s suddenly aware of how close his beautiful, rosy lips are to his ear – he can actually feel Harry’s minty breath fanning over the left side of his face.

 

And he’s also suddenly aware of how close he’s become with a person whom he once thought he wouldn’t even have a chance to glance on the road – a person he’s been stalking on the Internet and blogging about their every move, has proved to be much more than just ‘the front singer of the band _The Directions_ ’. And the fluttering in his heart whenever Harry does something has been even more prominent in the past couple of days.

 

“You’re very trusting, y’know,” Louis blurts out, immediately regretting it, but it’s the first time he’s spoken to Harry without thinking over his words a hundred times. It’s progress.

 

“What do you mean?” asks Harry confused.

 

“Well, I mean,” Louis begins, “We met a club, right? We’ve met outside once or twice, and texted for just a couple of weeks, and you’ve already let me into your house. I could be a murderer, for all you know.”

 

“But you’re not,” Harry laughs, bringing an arm around Louis’ shoulder. Shivers run down Louis’ spine as he’s enveloped with warmth and fuzziness.

 

“And how could you know?”

 

Harry smiles down at him fondly, their size difference quiet evident, since Louis’ head just about manages to reach Harry’s chin, “You seem like a wonderful person,” he whispers in his ear, secretly, just for the two of them to hear, “A lovely person to be around with. I’d hate to find out that you were a cold-blooded murderer from the beginning, but I think I would have excused your motives, just because of your looks.”

 

Louis feels like floating through a sky of endless, fluffy clouds, and his stomach twisting in the best way possible, “Good way of thinking,” is the only stupid response he manages to croak out, his eyes locked with Harry’s, two deep pools of a beautiful, jade, kaleidoscope.

 

“I think I need to be around you more,” Harry continues, bringing Louis closer with his arm, “You uhm – you relax me. You’re – you’re the kind of distraction I need whenever things get too much, and I’d love to have you around a bit more than before.”

 

“I, I think I’d like that too.”

 

The next time Harry and Louis go out together on their own is next Saturday. Harry decides to take Louis to a cute little bowling center, and there are just about five people there when they arrive. Louis has started thinking if he should even call these ‘dates’, since he’s pretty sure Harry would never think of him like Louis does for Harry. Why would Harry ever even think of doing something with Louis when he can literally have anyone in the world. “You’ve ever played bowling before?”

 

“Sometimes with Niall,” Louis admits, shrugging, “’M not really that good at it though.”

 

“I could teach you.”

 

Louis’ life is turning into one of those stupid-ass fanfic he sometimes reads on the internet (just because he’s bored, mind you), and he’s never been more ready to be taught how to play bowling by Mr. Harry Styles, “Alright,” he’s not one to pass off a chance like this.

 

When Harry finally comes from behind and crowds his backside, he realizes he has made a huge mistake. One, because one of Harry’s huge ass hands is currently on his backside, supporting him from falling, and the other one has sneaked around his hand, touching the bowling ball lightly, “So, you just move like this,” Harry explains, raspy voice whispering right in his ear, “And then, when you’ve finally found your spot,” _fuck_ , “You shoot the ball straight into it.”

 

“Okay…” Louis whispers, swallowing his spit loud enough for everyone to hear, for everyone to see just how nervous he gets when he’s around Harry.

 

“Louis?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Uh – the ball? Throw it – “

 

“Yeah! Yeah, yeah, I’m – I’m sorry – “

 

Harry chuckles fondly, “You’re so cute.”

 

“Am I now?” Louis says, laughing awkwardly.

 

“Mmm…” Harry mumbles, “Real cute, to be honest.”

 

The tension in the room has just been intensified; Harry’s arms are around him, holding him tight against his body, and his lips are just a couple of inches away from Harry’s all soft and red and beautiful, and screaming to be kissed – “I’m – ‘m a bit thirsty, I think,” Louis blurts out randomly, mentally slapping himself across the face for saying that, “D-do you want me to get you a drink?

 

The rest part of their ‘date’ – _it’s not a date,_ Louis keeps telling himself – is just funny innuendos between the two of them and embarrassing, sexual tension, that floats into the room as easily as oxygen, making Louis almost crap his pants from the embarrassment.

 

When they finally decide to leave so that Harry can go to sleep early – they have a recording session tomorrow morning, Harry grabs Louis’ arm and laces it around his, bringing him closer, “Lou, I need you to hold my hand and look down throughout the whole way out of the building, alright? Don’t smile, don’t frown, and don’t make any noise whatsoever, keep your eyes on my back, alright?”

 

Louis nods, completely confused, “Alright, but why – “ he doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence however, because the door opens, and a white, flashing light hits his eyes angrily.

 

He tries to keep his head down, hand blindly searching for Harry’s, and the voices keep shouting louder and louder, _‘Are you Harry’s boyfriend?’ ‘Are you using him for his money?’_ and _‘Is Harry going to come out?’_ until he finally finds Harry’s hand again, which guides him into his car, and it feels like he can breathe again.

 

Harry drives for a couple of blocks, until there are no paps in the way, and parks the car on the side of the road. “Louis?!” he asks worriedly, scrambling to get closer to Louis, who’s been shaking uncontrollably since he entered the car, “Shit, I’m so – “

 

“O-okay – “ Louis croaks out, burying his face in Harry’s warm, comfy sweater, breathing in his scent, strong, safe arms wrapping around his body, “I’m – I’m okay, it, it’s alright – “

 

“Of course it’s not bloody alright!” Harry says, furiously this time, but not letting go of Louis, “I – I brought you into this – “

 

“Harry, you didn’t – “

 

“I did, Lou.” Harry sighs, pressing his face against Louis’ hair, “Fuck, I care about you, so much. And I hate seeing people I care about being harassed this way.”

 

 

 

 

Louis hasn’t been on his blog for days now.

 

It feels weird, so incredibly weird. Seeing pictures of him and Harry all around the internet, pictures of them in Harry’s car, pictures of them walking out of the bowling center, and Louis can’t help but feel so _guilty_ , for causing all this drama, not only to Harry, but also for the rest of the band. He used to stare at pictures of them exiting events, watching how gracefully they all posed in front of the paps and looked so flawless, even in a picture that was taken from an awkward angle. But he never quite understood how it must have felt for the three of them to be in this position, for cameras to be shoved in their faces and expect them to act natural, as if nothing wrong was going on.

 

He really hates himself for doing that, for bringing Harry into this mess, but that doesn’t stop him from calling the boy, “Harry?” he asks quietly, shifting on his bed, it’s almost midnight and Harry must be asleep and will probably curse at him for waking him up, “I’m sorry – “

 

“Good morning Lou,” he hears Harry laughing from the other line, his heart going back to its normal position, “I actually needed that, thank you,” his voice is raspy and husky, and deep, and Louis wouldn’t mind waking up to this voice for the rest of his life. “’M in Japan.”

 

“Oh,” Louis says, disappointment filling his voice, “I – I didn’t know.”

 

“I should’ve told you,” Harry says sincerely, “We’ll be here for the next two days, then come back and have a bit of a break until the middle of January.

 

Louis beams excitedly, “Oh, that’s nice! I was wondering if we could meet up – “ a heavy sigh comes from the other line, making Louis heart sink in the bottom of his stomach again.

 

“Lou, after – after what happened, they – they’re not letting me go out as much.”

 

He gulps, “What, what do you mean?”

 

“They said some stuff about potential ruin in the band’s image if I’m seen around with someone they haven’t approved of,” Harry groans angrily, and Louis knows he’s not the only one feeling this way. “A-and I’ll try to come around as soon as I can, I just can’t – they won’t let me – “

 

“But why though?” Louis questions, getting angrier as time passes. How can they actually do this? Are management companies even allowed to control that stuff? Louis is completely clueless, “I mean, I’m – I’m just your friend, right? I wouldn’t – “

 

“Yes Louis,” Harry suddenly speaks in a monotone, bored voice, “You’re just a friend. That – that’s the only thing you can describe yourself as, isn’t it?”

 

“Harry? I don’t understand – “

 

“Forget it,” Harry huffs angrily, and drops the call. Louis feels like he’s going to fucking cry for a second, but then just excuses Harry’s attitude because their management is being a pain in the bum.

 

Because, Harry and Louis are just friends, aren’t they? Just two people who met at a pub and have been hanging around ever since.

 

That’s all they’ll ever be.

 

 

 

 

“You need to stop moping around like a twat,” Niall tells him a week after, as he’s vacuuming the place – one of the rare times Niall decides to touch the machine – with Louis sat on the couch, holding his phone in his hand tightly. It’s been four days since the last time Harry ever texted him, the last time being the same day they talked on the phone, a text saying that he was sorry for being grumpy. And that was it; nothing else.

 

“He’s mad at me Niall,” Louis sighs with a downcast heart, “I put him into this whole thing, and now he’s having problem at his work, all because of me.”

 

“Hey, hey,” Niall kneels down, hugging Louis tenderly, “He’s not mad at you, Lou. He looks at you like you own the world, Louis, haven’t you noticed?”

 

“He doesn’t,” Louis murmurs, slipping further down into the covers, “He’s mad at me and he’s never going to call me again.” Why was he so stupid? Of course Harry was going to forget about him at some point, he’s such a famous figure, he doesn’t need a normal person like Louis to nag him around and annoy him with stupid things and take him on ‘dates’ when they’re just friends. Harry just doesn’t need him, Louis thinks.

 

“He’s busy,” Niall corrects him, “Now, we were going to talk about your birthday party – “

 

“Oh no, please Niall, not again – “

 

“But we have to, buddy, it’s your birthday!”

 

“No, Niall, this is not a reason to have _a massive birthday party and get smashed_ ,” Louis says, mimicking Niall’s voice, “I just want to stay at home, with a couple of friends, and the people I love, and do things that do not require me to get out of my apartment.”

 

“I can do that.”

 

 

 

 

 

Niall is such a fucking menace.

 

 **Harry S.** : _Hey, you didn’t tell me your birthday was on Christmas Eve!_

 

“ _Niall!_ ” Louis screams.

 

_niall told you didn’t he?_

 

 **Harry S.** : _Also, I’m totally crashing your birthday party Xx._

 

Louis squeals, loudly this time.

 

_i thought you couldn’t do that ;)_

**Harry S.** : _I can do all sorts of things if you want me to, love Xx._

 

 

 

 

It’s Christmas Eve and Louis has decided he’s not going to get wasted and mourn over all the bad things that have happened in his life.

 

Harry is coming to his birthday party, and nothing can make the night go wrong. There’s also Zayn and Liam, who have come earlier than Harry, and are chatting up with Niall in the kitchen. Apparently, the rest of the people who were supposed to come ‘cancelled’ – or so Niall says, at least – and so it’s only going to be the five of them celebrating it.

 

Until the bell rings and there’s an enthusiastic Harry Styles with a Santa hat on, two huge bags of presents in his hands, “No!” Louis groans when he sees the bags, as Harry brings him into a tight hug, and whispering a secret ‘happy birthday’ in his ear, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Louis can already feel his knees melting under Harry’s lips, “Thank you, I told you not to get me anything!”

 

“But I wanted to,” Harry grins, showing off his perfect white teeth, “And they’re gifts, you’re not supposed to deny gifts, or be sad that someone bought them for you. That’s just weird.”

 

“But Harry – “ he whines, and squeaks when Harry hugs him, lifting him off the floor, tiptoes dangling in the air.

 

“I promise you, if you don’t want them, I can always return them back, no worries.”

 

“No, I just – I didn’t want you getting into any kind of trouble because of me, especially after – “

 

“What? No, no, this is something _I_ chose to do for _you_. No one has a say in what I choose to do, alright love?”

 

The smaller boy sighs happily, “Alright.”

 

Louis blows his candles and they cut the cake, digging into the food quickly. He gets his birthday wishes from Zayn and Liam as well, who give him special looks whenever Harry decides to just randomly feed him some cake, as if they’re some lovey-dovey couple. “Should we play truth or dare?” Niall suggests, and Louis usually says no to these kinds of games, but he’s a bit too tipsy to care about it now.

 

“Alright, Harry, truth or dare?” Niall asks after a couple of rounds. Harry’s cheeks are rosy with color and his eyes are glossy because of the wine, but he looks so, so pretty.

 

Harry thinks about it for a moment before loudly yelling, “Dare!”

 

“Hm,” Niall says, “Alright, I – “ he sees Louis waving his hands like a maniac behind him, mouthing to him to not say anything related to Louis, but apparently, Niall is a psycho, “I dare you to have Louis on your lap for the rest of the night.”

 

“Do I get a say in this?” Louis questions.

 

“Nope!” Harry giggles, grabbing Louis and bringing him onto his lap, securing his hands in front of Louis’ belly. Louis is pretty content with his current seat, it’s warm, and comfy, and feels like home.

 

“Alright, my turn!” Liam says, and everyone groans. Liam’s the one who usually asks the most shitty questions, “Alright, Louis, truth or dare?”

 

“Truth,” Louis shrugs.

 

“What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done?”

 

 _Fuck_ , Louis thinks. He knows he should probably say something stupid and expected, like skinny dipping or some shit, but he can’t do that, especially in front of Harry, he can’t just lie about that big part of his life that’s brought him to where he is right now, “I uhm, I came out to my parents when I was sixteen,” he admits, looking down on his lap, “And, and I’d been planning it for about three, to four months, I think? And – and yeah, I – for me, that’s the bravest thing I’ve ever done, I – I was really proud of myself?”

 

“And how did it go?” Zayn says.

 

“Got kicked out,” Louis laughs awkwardly, and Harry’s hands hug him even tighter around his tummy, keeping him safe, “’S alright, I mean. I’ve got Niall here who took me under his wing, y’know.” He feels his vision blurry and his eyes filling with tears, “Now, c’mon, it’s my birthday now, alright? No reason for crying!”

 

When they start playing Monopoly, Louis decides to go out for a smoke. Soon after him, comes Harry, getting outside on the balcony as well, “I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable,” Harry tells him, “You – you didn’t have to go through that, I mean – “

 

Louis exhales the smoke, looking up at Harry with a smile. Harry’s just so _caring_ , and _funny_ , and _pretty_ , and all things one could ever dream of, and Louis thinks he’s going to cry just from that, “Haz, it’s all okay, I mean, it happened a couple of years ago, it’s fine. Sometimes people don’t feel the same way you do about stuff, you know. And that’s okay, I mean, I can’t make them think the same way as I do, I just can’t – “

 

“My mum was pretty okay about it,” Harry interrupts him, “She – she was like, very accepting, and all. But now with the band, it’s sometimes difficult to, express my feelings and other things about myself because it can cause a problem to the band’s imagine, and the one management has built for us individually,” Harry stops, moving closer to Louis and bringing his hand up to caress his cheek, “B-but I’m so proud of you, you had the balls to do that and accept the fact that _they_ wouldn’t accept you, and yet you _still_ moved on, I just – I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

 

Louis looks shyly up to Harry, “Thank you, Harry, that – that’s really sweet of you.” His hand pushes some of Harry’s curls behind his ear, a huge grin taking over Harry’s lips, “Thank you for coming today.”

 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

Niall, who interrupts during his private toilet shenanigans, jumps behind him and makes him burn the food he’s making, and invite Harry Styles to his birthday party, usually ruins Louis’ life. However this time, it’s Liam who decides to ruin this particular fucking moment with a, “Hey guys, look what I found in Louis’ room!” showing off a giant Harry Styles poster.

 

_Wonderful._

 

“Oh, let me see, let me see!” Harry yells, pushing through the rest of the boys to go into Louis’ room, and Louis is so tired and exhausted and happy and drunk that he can’t even be bothered to stop him.

 

“You do know I’m going to kill you after this, don’t you?” he whispers to Niall, who just cackles and follows the rest of the boys, who are staring in awe Louis’ room, that is just covered in _The Directions_ posters – mostly the Harry ones, though. “Okay guys, I think we’ve all had enough – “

 

“You never told us you were a fan of ours!” Liam says.

 

“An obsessed one, may I add,” Zayn comments with a smirk.

 

“Was this after or before we met?” Harry asks him with a fond smile.

 

“Uh, before.” Louis tells him honestly. There’s no turning back now.

 

“See, I told you guys, we’ve been sleeping together all this time!” Harry exclaims dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

 

It’s then that Louis realizes that Louis is hopelessly, madly in love with an idiot. A wonderful, beautiful idiot.

 

 

 

 

“You can spend the night here, if you want,” Louis tells Harry at midnight, when Liam and Zayn have finally left and Niall has gone to sleep, “It’s pretty late now. You can leave first thing in the morning, if that’s what you want – “

 

“Do you have to be anywhere tomorrow?”

 

“Nah, I’ll just celebrate Christmas with Niall, watch Christmas movies and binge on the food and such.”

 

“Do you mind spending your Christmas with me?” Harry asks hopefully.

 

Louis grins so madly his cheeks hurt, “Not at all.”

 

That night, the two boys fall asleep on the couch together, cuddled under a warm, comfy blanket. Louis head rests on Harry’s chest and his arms are around Harry’s toned torso, latched onto him like a baby koala. Harry’s feet are between his, way too bigger than Louis’ but still kept warm enough, and Harry’s parted lips leave small little whines and puffs as they sleep at night. Louis thinks he’s living the dream, and doesn’t ever want to wake up.

 

He does wake up, however, at some point, a soft voice murmuring ‘good morning’ in his eyes. His eyes slowly flutter open and he sees Harry, smiling widely at him, a hand petting his rumpled hair, “Merry Christmas, Lou.”

 

Louis stretched his arms, then cuddles up against Harry again, “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

 

 

 

 

 

 **Harry S.** : _You should come to my sister’s New Year’s Eve party Xx_.

_you’re insane xxx_

 

 **Harry S.** : _No, you really should. It will be fun, I swear Xx._

 

 **Harry S.** : _I really want you to be there with me. Won’t be a proper New Year without you, Lou Xx._

 

This basically how Louis finds himself on the front door of none other than Gemma Styles herself, the better Styles – not really, but. Niall is right beside him for moral support; although he knows what Niall really wants is to convince Zayn to kiss him for the New Year.

 

“Louis!” Harry shouts happily when he sees him, rushing and tripping over people to hug him. He smells of cocktails and chocolate, and Louis wants to kiss him until his lips are swollen. “I’m so happy you made it! Wouldn’t have been the same without you,” the last part is whispered in his ear, and it makes Louis feel even more weak and pliant in Harry’s arms.

 

There’s plenty of people in Gemma’s flat, most of which are non-famous, but they all seem to be having fun – there’s music blaring from the speakers, some Christmas song mix, and Harry immediately drags Louis onto the dance floor, bringing an arm around him and swaying in sync with the songs, “Dance with me, Lou,” Harry giggles, bringing his drink up to Louis’ lips.

 

And Louis is just so gone into the moment that his whole brain is just a big, bold _‘fuck it’_ and takes a huge gulp of the cocktail, alcohol running through his system. If he can at least find the balls to kiss Harry at midnight, then he’d be pretty content with himself.

 

He continues to dance with Harry throughout the rest of the night, swaying his body to the rhythm of the music and wiggling his butt against Harry’s crotch after a particularly strong shot in his mouth; he’s feeling pretty brave tonight, and at some point, he even starts to other people who has never met before. “Hey guys!” Harry slurs next to him, his hand coming to wrap around Louis’ waist protectively, “This is my friend Louis, you’ve never met before, have you?” and so Harry starts introducing Louis to everyone at their party, and each time he tells them that Louis is a ‘friend’ of his, he makes Louis’ blood boil, because Harry is not just a friend to Louis. _He’s so, so much more._

 

“Alright everyone, gather round for the countdown!” Gemma shouts from the balcony, and everyone rushes out just to see the fireworks. Only a couple of people remain inside, Harry and Louis being two of them, “15, 14, 13 –“

 

“Really, a ‘friend’?” Louis finally finds the courage to say it out loud.

 

“What?” Harry asks confused, “What are talking about?”

 

“You introduced me to everyone and told them I was just your ‘friend’, is that all I am to you, Harry?” it’s becoming even more difficult to talk through the noise the others are making.

 

“11, 10, 9, 8 – “

 

“That’s what you had told me on the phone last month!” Harry says defensively.

 

“Well, you’re not, you’re not just a friend to me, Harry – “

 

“7,6,5 – “

 

“What, then – “

 

“4, 3, 2, - “

 

“1!”

 

“I love you, you fucking twat!” Louis screams, and Harry’s jaw hangs open. There’s a hand then grasping his own, and Harry pulling him to one of the closest bedrooms he can reach, getting in and then shutting the door closed.

 

“You – you love me?”

 

“Yes, you idiot! I’ve fallen in love with you ever since we went on that stupid cute coffee shop and you made a drawing of me on your fucking notebook. Fuck, I – I’ve been blogging about you two years before we even met, acting like your younger fans, and I never thought you would so much more lovely and beautiful and everything in person.” Louis pauses, looking down at the carpet; “I love you, Harry, so – so much.”

 

“Oh, thank God – “ Harry sighs loudly and surges forwards, capturing Louis’ lips into a proper, messy snog, their lips melting softly against each other as the seconds pass by; it’s not by any means perfect, nor how Louis ever imagined it to be. It’s way better.

 

Frantically, Louis gasps on Harry’s t-shirt, pushing him onto the bed and straddling his lap, not disconnecting their lips at all, until Harry has pull away to take a deep breath, “I’m so in love with you.”

 

“ _Harry_ – “ Louis whines, a tent growing at the front of his trousers, “H-harry, I – I need – “ he shifts a little, feeling Harry’s crotch digging into his bum and making him even more aroused.

 

“Shh, shh, darling, I’ll take care of you,” Harry promises with a soft, yet sure whisper as he sneaks his arms inside Louis’ sweater and feels the warm skin, his fingers lightly tapping on Louis’ tummy, “K-kiss – kiss me some more, first.” He says, and Louis’ lips are on his again, lapping softly and suddenly biting his bottom lip, “Naughty,” Harry giggles at that, but Louis’ breath hitches and his cock stiffens in his pants, “What was that? You liked being called naughty, love?”

 

Louis whimpers, huffing and hiding his face in Harry’s neck, embarrassed, grinding his hips desperately against Harry’s crotch, “H-harry, please – “

 

“I want to suck you off,” Harry admits drunkenly, kissing Louis’ neck, “Can – can I do that? Do you want – “

 

“Fuck, yeah, want that so much.”

 

And so Harry leans down and starts mouthing over Louis’ clothed cock, slowly unzipping his pants and kissing on the exposed skin – and it’s so frustrating and endearing at the same time, because this is supposed to drunk, rough sex, but Harry’s managed to make it tender and sweet, and Louis wants to cry because of how fucking lucky he is. Harry then pushes his boxers of, and slips one of his hands to palm his own stiff member, kissing Louis’ navel, then diving straight into it.

 

It’s small, sweet little kisses at first, then kitten licks, and then Harry has Louis’ tip in his mouth, sucking it and making slurping sounds that sound like heaven in Louis’ ear. Louis groans, fisting Harry’s hair and pulling on it harshly.

 

And Harry moans – oh how lovely he moans, sending vibrations to Louis’ cock and almost making him cum right there and then, “You – you like that?” Louis asks breathlessly.

 

“So much.”

 

The alcohol running through Louis’ system makes him ten times more horny and on the edge that he is supposed to be, and so, after a while of Harry sucking him off, he almost screams when he feels one of Harry’s long, slender fingers nudging his hole, “F-fuck, yeah, yes – “

 

Harry gives one last kiss on his cock and pulls off, looking up at Louis; his lips are red and swollen, coated with pre-cum, eyes hazy and glossy and hair sticking onto his forehead, and he hasn’t took off all of his clothes yet, and he looks so fucking gone already, “Open you up, yeah? That-that – “

 

“Come ‘ere,” Louis breathes out, beckoning for Harry to come closer to him and meet their lips in a slow, lazy kiss, as he slowly undresses Harry from his jeans and shirt, running his hand over Harry’s tummy and grasping his bare length – and Harry is really, fucking big. He starts pumping him up down, lazily kissing him as Harry opens him up, using his fingers and his spit, pushing two more fingers as time passes. It might burn and sting a little, but Louis is so hungry for it that he doesn’t even care about the pain right now.

 

After a while of thoroughly stretching and preparing each other, Louis straddles Harry again, sucking in his tummy a little, because of course it’s not one of the best angles in the world – but Harry brings his hand on his belly and caresses it softly, making Louis relax completely and become putty in his arms, “Gonna- gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” Louis pants, pushing Harry’s cock slowly into his entrance, and Harry’s arms come around his waist, helping him adjust to Harry’s length, “S-shit – “

 

“Go slowly darling,” Harry murmurs, rubbing up and down his sides, “Take all the time you need okay? Fuck, so lovely, so _tight_ – “

 

When Louis is finally seated on Harry, he starts rolling his hips, slowly and experimentally; feeling the stretch of his cock in hole, and _fuck_ does that feel good. “ _Fuck me – fuck_ – “

 

“Yeah love, that you want?” Harry groans, moving his hips up into Louis, “So pretty baby, so lovely, so tight around m’cock, _fuck_ – “ Harry growls again, biting his lip in concentration as he thrust in and out again in a rough, steady rhythm.

 

“Big – big, so big – “ Louis breathes, bringing Harry into a kiss, “Feel so good inside of me, _fill me up so good_ – “

 

“Mmm,” Harry mumbles, bringing his hand on Louis’ ass, gripping the flesh and feeling it jiggle with Louis’ each move, “Fuck Lou, your ass – “ he groans, bringing his hand down and smacking it. Louis bucks up at that, letting out a loud whimper and begging Harry to do that again.

 

He comes after the fifth spank in long spurts, the orgasm being ripped out of his body and he slumps forwards and falling on Harry, who’s still hard inside of him and hasn’t come yet. Carefully, he slips out, kneeling in front of Harry’s cock, and starts pumping it, “C-come on m’face, yeah?”

 

Harry almost _screams_ at that, pushing his head against the pillows and groaning Louis’ name, and it doesn’t take him long until he comes as well, thick, white cum coating Louis’ eyelashes, “Fuck, you’re going to kill me.”

 

Louis just giggles, reaching up to kiss Harry softly on the lips, “I really love you, y’know,” Harry tells him quietly, stroking his cheek.

 

Louis can’t help the fond radiating from his eyes, “I love you too, H.”

 

There’s a moment of silence between them, just soft puffs out of air leaving their parted lips as they cuddle under the covers. Louis thinks they don’t have to talk about anything right now, just sleep and figure everything out in the morning. All he needs is to sleep and cuddle with his boy, and kiss some more, and tell him how much he loves him.

 

“Aw, we missed the fireworks!’

 


End file.
